Hm...you know, I didn't really mind Christmas until recently. Sure, it's usually obnoxiously expensive and super-hectic, but I don't usually mind. Unlike a lot of other people, I actually *LOVE* shopping for gifts (which is why it's funny and sad at the same time that I've given out fewer and fewer gifts over the last few years, as I've gotten increasingly poorer. Boo!), and while Christmastime is hectic, I don't really mind it much because it's a welcome break from school. This year though, things became a little different.

For those of you that don't know, I work in a bank. Now, the job is alright, and the people are nice, and it pays enough to fund my love of expensive food, but that's not the point. While the job is perfectly decent, there are things about it that drive me crazy (especially at this time of the year). Anyone that's worked retail or customer service probably knows where I'm going with this. Yes folks. I'm talking about Christmas music.

Until recently, I didn't really listen much to Christmas music. I sang it when I was in choir, and I occasionally heard it on TV or the radio (when I still used to listen to it), but for the most part, I clumped it along with gospel, country, jazz, and all that other stuff. It was okay, but it wasn't my thing. I wasn't crazy about the stuff, but I didn't hate it either. Well, the latter isn't true anymore. See, ever since Thanksgiving ended, I've been listening to Christmas music for around twenty agonizing hours a week. It wasn't so bad at first, but by the time I'd heard the seventh poorly sung cover of Jingle Bells, the sixteenth slightly altered version of Frosty the Snowman, and two-hundred zillion songs about Rudolph's red nose, I was ready to kill something.

Now I can finally understand why the Grinch hated Christmas so much: I'm sure he was a perfectly sane, rational guy, until one day, he just went crazy from all this madness. I'm not sure which song it was that finally drove him over the edge, but I'm reasonably sure that it was the one that goes "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah've got my love to keep me waaaaaaaaaarm" over and over AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Gods, I hate that song most of all. Hating the music is just a gateway drug, though. Soon it spreads, and now everything about corporate Christmas irritates me (except the gift giving/receiving, which I still totally adore). If I'm a grumpy, green, furry thing next Christmas, you'll know exactly what happened.

In other news, I went to a Victoria's Secret for the first time today.

As far as I can remember, I've never been inside one of those stores before. It's not that I hate the smells and colors. On the contrary, anyone who's known me for a decent length of time will tell you that I love almost all things girly. It's not even that I was afraid of all the weird looks I'd be getting from clerks when I went in: Heaven knows that I get plenty of weird looks from strangers all the time. It's just that, uh...*ahem*...I'm really still kind of shy about going to THOSE sorts of stores. *blush*

I guess I should probably start from the top. Mmm. Okay. See, we're doing a Santa thing at work, and the person I got requested that her Secret Santa get her some perfume from Victoria's Secret. Now this is all well and good, and I'm all for getting my person exactly what she wants, but you have to understand: I don't do well in lingerie stores. While I'm generally not as shy around women anymore, I'm still really shy around women that are in any stage of notable undress.

Now, while I didn't really expect myself to be swarmed by women in their underwear as soon as I walked into the store, there are still pictures of half naked women all over the place. And mannequins. Yeah,  you heard me right. Mannequins. In their underwear. You've got to understand: When my female friends get undressed or changed around me, I usually look the other way, or close my eyes, or do any number of similar things, because, really, that's the polite thing to do. That, and I'd feel kind of uncomfortable watching or glimpsing someone as they changed. It's just, really, um, *blush*...yeah. *hides* For the longest time, I even changed the channel when lingerie commercials came on TV. It took me a long time before I could actually sit through one and not feel like a total creepo pervert.

-_-;

This kind of carries over to lingerie stores. I don't know just how comfortable I am at glimpsing strange women in their underwear, even if they are just pictures. Or mannequins. Especially giant mannequins that are all over the place and in my face and challenging me to look at their bras and panties and hats and gloves and stockings and all sorts of other things. Needless to say, I spent almost the entire time there staring very pointedly at my shoes, lest I make the mannequins uncomfortable. I wouldn't ever dream of it. No sir. Because that's just the kind of guy I am. So, yeah. It was quite the experience. ♥